Laying Claim and Self Loathing
by lookafic
Summary: Shion wants many things and he already has all of them. Aggressive fluff.


_This is different;_ is the first thing Shion thinks when he wakes up with his arms wrapped around a sleeping Nezumi. His lips are resting lightly against the back of Nezumi's head, and the sheets are in a tangle by their feet. Nezumi's hair, smelling like moss and old books, is still little damp from their shower. A few strands of it stick to Shion's cheek as he lightly adjusts his hold.

It's not at all uncomfortable, but it is a little cold, Shion determines- mind groggily approving of the obvious.

Shion breathes in and everything smells and feels like _Nezumi_. He curiously runs his fingers down Nezumi's shoulder to the bend of his arm, struck by the soft-solidity of his bare skin, smooth under his hands and warm as his own.

Nezumi's fingers loosely grip the pillow his head rests on, and Shion is unable to conceal a self-satisfied smile. Their proximity is appreciated, and Shion indulges in another deep breath, pulling Nezumi to his chest and resting his chin between his shoulder and neck.

Suddenly he has the aggressive impulse to bury himself in that neck, a fluttering urge to bite and lick and kiss it until it changes color under his tongue and teeth. To let the world know that this person, this wonderful, imperfect, beautiful person, is _Shion's_, as much as Shion is his.

He mentally berates himself for his possessiveness, guilt cold in his stomach.

Nezumi was afraid of him, and even back then Shion desired him. Shion is still, to his own surprise, discovering a greater capacity to _want_ him. It's an exhilarating and terrifying thing, lust—and with it comes a new sense of fear. Shion has always wanted, always desired, and now that he's attained, he can't help but want more. All the time. Always.

It's really getting to be a problem, Shion's greed.

Shion kisses Nezumi's shoulder, trying to cool some of his longing. He wonders that if Nezumi knew the full extent of it he'd continue to sleep so soundly.

Shameless.

Shion loosens his hold, swallowing the urge to brush Nezumi's cheek with the tips of his fingers just to feel his skin under him again. It's pathetic and Shion knows it. He has to calm down before Nezumi realizes just how _dependent_ he feels.

"Where do you think you're going?" Nezumi commands rather than questions, voice surprisingly awake. Shion blanks for a moment.

"I thought you were sleeping."

"I was- " Nezumi rolls onto his side, facing Shion. He reaches out and runs a hand through Shion's hair, pushing the back of his head- without any real force- down to the bed. Shion melts into his touch, and Nezumi smiles. "-I was, but then I felt you combing my arm hair."

"You don't have arm hair," Shion bluntly reminds him. "And I wouldn't comb it if you did."

"Too damn good for my arm hair, now, are you?" Nezumi mumbles blearily, pausing to examine his recently shaven arm. He glares at it. "Right, because apparently Cleopatra's "ape-arms" offended some audience member's delicate sensibilities."

Shion snorts inelegantly and Nezumi wraps an arm around his waist. His forehead bumps against Shion's playfully. "I can't seem keep track of whether I'm shaven or not anymore. You're mixing me up."

"What do I have to do with you shaving?"

"_Everything_," Nezumi whines. "It's an unfortunate byproduct of all the time we spend in this bed."

"I'm sorry." Shion sighs and kisses Nezumi's cheek, guilt confirmed. "If you don't want to—"

"I wouldn't be naked if I didn't, Shion. Don't apologize," Nezumi scolds. Shion relaxes until Nezumi decides to trace a line down his spine. "It's just scrambling me a little, and I'm not sure if I'm loving how easy it is to get lost in this."

There's something comforting in Nezumi's honest words and Shion nods in understanding, trying to ignore the way his back rebels against him and instinctually moves into Nezumi's gentle touch. Nezumi snickers and Shion notices several blossoming marks along his pale neck. "How are you feeling?"

"Hmm, well, I'm exhausted for one," Nezumi says, nuzzling Shion's hand affectionately as it traces a particularly dark bite mark. He nips playfully at Shion's knuckles before Shion pulls his hand away. "You certainly were eager."

Shion can feel himself flush, and judging by the way Nezumi's eyes glint, it's a mistake.

"Oh now, you're embarrassed about it. Where was this self-conscious Shion last night?"

"Distracted by you," Shion mumbles, trying to muster up some bitterness. Nezumi only laughs fondly.

"To be pounced on in such a way after only walking through the door. I have to say, you were in rare form," Nezumi continues, pauses only to relish in Shion's humiliated glare. "It was downright _feral_-"

"I wouldn't call it feral. I'm not an animal—"

"—You could've fooled me, the look in your eyes, _ravenous_ only began to describe it." Nezumi grins, and Shion wants to stick his head inside his pillow and never come out.

"You certainly went along with my wild behavior easily enough," Shion passive-aggressively informs the pillowcase, silently promising himself never to make eye contact with Nezumi ever again.

He quickly breaks his promise when Nezumi tilts his chin and delivers the kind of kiss that's doomed to linger in Shion's head and heart long after it ends. Nezumi smiles against his lips, idly tracing over the scar on his cheek with his thumb.

"I certainly did go along with it. I'd be a fool to turn you down."

Shion frowns, absentmindedly untangling a knot in Nezumi's hair, since his hand seems to have already found its way there. "I didn't hurt you did I?"

"How dainty do you think I am, Shion?" Nezumi scowls as Shion apologetically kisses a bruise on his collarbone. Nezumi's glare softens as Shion runs his hands along his chest, making sure he didn't leave any bruises in places that couldn't be effectively covered with clothes or make-up. He gently brushes Shion's hands away. "Shion."

Shion swallows, looking up. "What is it?"

"On a scale of one to ten, how fucked do I look?"

Shion coughs into his arm as Nezumi adjusts, lying down comfortably. He smiles patiently and opens his arms, body confidently on display. It's near impossible not to stare, and Shion opens and closes his mouth several times before he's able to string together a helpless "Excuse me?"

"One to ten, Shion." Nezumi reminds him, running a hand through his still slightly tangled hair, looking pleased with himself.

"I—" Shion swallows, eyes sweeping helplessly over Nezumi's form once more. It's really a difficult quantity to measure. Scales have no meaning if one and ten aren't given examples, after all, but something in Shion's mind tells him that asking Nezumi to clarify the scale is going to get him made fun of. When he notices Nezumi starting to shut his eyes, clearly having grown tired of the game, he forces himself to make a rough estimate.

"Six? I guess?"

Nezumi's eyes open as he barks out a laugh and Shion certainly _does not_ stare at the way his entire body tremors beautifully with the warm sound. Nezumi tugs his arm and Shion abruptly falls beside him with an undignified thump.

Shion wants to complain but suddenly words are being whispered into his ear and all reasonable thought flies out of his head.

"Next time, Shion, try for a 10."


End file.
